Glastonbury Morning
One of the tiny nice things about Glastonbury is the trip to Victoria coach station. On the Mitcham Road I’m the only one booted and rucksacked; I feel like an adventurer, setting off to do magical things, separated slightly from the rest of the world. Then the tube: filled with people setting off to work, but maybe you see one or two others, with faded T-Shirts, heavy packs, a tent or groundmat by their sides. A flicker of mutual recognition. Change to the Victoria line, the number increases, two or three per carriage now, then spill out into the station and through Victoria Place, stop in Boots and there are six or seven, fretting over plasters and water bottles. From all over London, people converging on the coach station with unspoken shared purpose.
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